As Brittle As Bones
by Nyachu-chan
Summary: /SAINWfic./ Crying was the first sign of falling apart. Confessing that horrible world was real, was pretty much the second sign. But falling apart, would never be as painful as watching your own brothers die. Don knows this, because it was his fault. They died because of him. And falling apart never looked so easy. /R&R/
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The turtles' eyes have been changed to what my headcanon is. You can image it however you like, but this is how I think of them. Don's eyes would be grey, Leo's are brown, Raph's are yellow, and Mikey's are blue. The text that is **_**italized and bolded **_**is what Donnie sees. Also, this might seem really off, I haven't written anything in a while, but I definitely plan to finish this.. hopefully. On a side note, has anyone else have troubles with Raph's accent? Also, does anyone else know why Don is such a hard perspective to write in? SAINW was an inspiring episode and thus this was born. **

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_"My brothers. My poor brothers. This world. This future. It's a nightmare." -Donatello, S03E21, Same As It Never Was._

* * *

The problem was, Donnie was dieing.

They could see it in his eyes, all the time, but they never really spoke out of it. They figured he'd come out in time, not to mention they were too wrapped up in how their own dimensions went. He had brushed it off when they asked, safe and sound in their sewer, all crowding around each other, speaking with each other of their journeys, not noticing the pained looks that Donatello was giving them. Of course, they hadn't noticed, not then. It was Donny; he was just being his distant self, probably recollecting his thoughts.

Don watched his brothers thoughtfully, wanting to reach out and feel them, to make sure that this was real, that it wouldn't suddenly shift to the horrible future he had foreseen. He wanted to feel Mikey's arm, to look into Raph's eyes, for Leo to say how he liked the color of something. Just to stabilize the fact that they were _real_, and not disabled in any way.

Don blinked away unshed tears, and the horrendous images seemed to creep up along his thoughts, and he cast his gaze away from his brothers, almost willing for them to ask about how his journey went, how he coped, if he was alright, if anything happened. That sort of thing. He sort of relied on them to question him, to crack him open, because he simply couldn't do it himself; couldn't just open up like that.

"Like, dude, Donnie, you're spacing out on us. Turtle Titan to Donnie, you still there, bro?" Mikey's three-fingered hand flew in front of Don's face, causing the purple branded terrapin to mentally stumble over his own thoughts. His grey eyes looked up into Mikey's blue ones, and he couldn't help but tilt his head ever so slightly.

"Yeah, Mikey.. I.. I'm just thinking about this new invention, that can.. can generate coffee at the press of a button," he mustered up, his eyes dark, gloomy, and... well, _haunted_ look that nearly startled Mikey out of his shell.

"Hey bro, ya know we're here for ya bro, right?" Mikey chimed, his face brightening up with a false cheerfulness, his smile never reaching his eyes as Don just looked at him gloomily. "Ya can tell us _anything_."

Donatello forced a smile that seemed to crack his mental stability, and he winced slightly like it pained him to even manage a small grin. "Yeah, Mikey, I know. Don't worry about me, I'm fine." He forced himself to keep eye contact, but found his gaze wavering as he did so. "This invention has been eating away at my brain since I came back from.. from the other dimension. I was a supergenius, have to be at the top of my game, right? Even have to beat my alternate self."

Mikey's eyes lit up as he absorbed this false explanation and nodded, as if it explained everything. "I hear ya bro, it's like beating your own highscore right?" He grinned, and turned his baby blue eyes to their older brothers, as they bickered over Master-Splinter-knows-what. Don watched them with a serious expression, shivering subconsciously.

_**"What happened to Leo and Raph?"  
"Let's just say they got in a big fight a long time ago..."**_

The olive terrapin frowned, his shaky breathing falling on deaf ears as he looked at them. And for a split moment, everything just seemed phase out and in their place stood their thirty year old versions of themselves, alive but still horribly disfigured. _**He could still see Leo, without his trademark blue bandana and his scarred face, and black shades, the heavy trenchcoat making him look bulkier. His gloved hands waving frantically in front of his face as he explained to Raph about his journey or something of the like. Raph was wearing his coat, the brown fabric standing out against his emerald skin, his hands were rough padded, as Don could vagualy remember, but alas he wore gloves also. The eye of which Don could see, was the one that was sewn shut.**_

The third youngest's breathing grew labored as he watched it unfold, and knew that in a heartbeat they would be having their big fight.

_**"Seriously, Raph, we have to look for Don. I won't... we shouldn't stop until he is found."**_

_**Raph's laughter was a bark, his yellow eyes serious and narrowed dangerously. His hands clenched into fists, "So the great Fearless Leader ain't gonna ups on Donnie? 'Cept it, Leo, Donnie is as good as dead. There can be nothin' that will bring him back."**_

_**"Not until I see for myself that he's dead, Raphael." The full-name. Never a good sign. Leo had spoken it in the I'm-the-leader-so-you-better-listen-to-me tone which would have unnerved Donatello to no end. And to know that they were fighting over **_**him**_**, simply filled him with dread. "Not until I search for his pulse, don't find it, will I give up."**_

_**"Yer fightin' a lost cause, Fearless," Raphael snarled, his breathing coming out jagged as he took threatening steps forward and stared into Leo's cloudy brown eyes, the paleness in them obvious, as well as the blindness. "'Cause that Donnie.. he ain't never gonna be here again. He ain't never comin' back."**_

Don's breath hitched, not for the first time, and he blinked slowly, his eyes wavering ever so slightly. Crap. They were fighting over _him_, and he shivered subconsciously. He swayed on the spot, drawing up a three-fingered hand to his face as if that single motion would stop him from falling over, but as if some magic force have commanded it, he steadied himself, his right grey eye peeking through his right hand, mumbling something that sounded like, "You got to be kidding me."

Mikey looked over at him, a question looming in his robin eyes, curiousity and for a moment, a fleeting seriousness crept across his face as he watched Donnie closely, the orange masked terrapin looked as if the world was resting on his shoulder just because Donatello was feeling woosy. "The Turtle Titan commands that you take a rest," he muttered, finally, his voice deprived of all cheerfulness and was replaced with a dead seriousness that didn't seem like it was Mikey at all. The purple clad turtle looked in amazement at Mikey, slowly lowering his hand and arching an eyeridge. Mikey's face turned a slight pink, which in fact looked odd with the green but was pleasant nonetheless after Don got used to it, as he realized what he had just said. "I mean, really, dude, you're like falling asleep on me. That just won't do, 'cause I need to fix my Silver Sentry action figure. His head like, popped off."

Don snickered, covering his mouth with his hand as he tried to think of a suitable response without giggling like a girl. "Of course, something needs fixing," he finally muttered, blinking warmly at his brother, his smile finally reaching his eyes. But as Mikey looked at him, he couldn't help but feel as though Don was holding something bad, by the way he smiled in such a way, the way his eyes were dark but filled with a possibly false cheerfullness.. His eyes hollow but impossibly bright like they've always been, but something was missing, like he had seen too much and was withholding it.. It was the look of a veteran after returning from war. And he didn't like that look, not one bit.

"Hey, dude. You're like.. dead," Mikey spoke with an obvious playfulness, but the words pulled a string at Don's heart and caused Mikey's immediate older brother to stumble back in surprise. "You've been distant this whole time, dude, you didn't even ask how my Silver Sentry was broken." Mikey's grin was contagious as Don soon found out, but the dread was already settling into his chest like a dead weight. Dead. That single word played many things through his mind. Dead was the bug that Raph squished. Dead was the mouse that Don nursed but was later killed by Klunk. Dead was his future. Dead was his brothers that were and weren't his brothers. Dead was Casey. Dead was Leo, Raph, Mikey. Dead was the world that had so much wound it's way into Don's head, and dead was the words that his dead brother's couldn't say. Mikey's smile faltered as Don's grin became a grimace, and Mikey's worry increased. "Dude?"

"It's nothing, Mikey. I'm fine," was all that Don could muster out, his throat uncannily dry and felt like parchment as he tried to swallow. His palms began to sweat, and he made a slight choking sound in the back of his throat. His grey eyes widened drastically as he struggled to perform the simple enough action as breathing, his breath coming in short gasps. His lungs burned, and he could swear that he tasted soot on his tongue. "There's nothing to worry about.. I'm fine."

"Donnie?" Mikey's reply was hesitant, worry creasing lines on his youthful face. Donatello scolded himself, _Keep it together Donatello, he's still Mikey, he's still young. He's still aliv-.. No, thinking about it will make it real, it can't be real. Besides, Mikey's here. In front of me. With his arm. Nothing's changed. Think rationally, Donnie, nothing's changed. Nothing. Okay, I may be possibly suffering from a relapse. Nothing to worry about. Everything's okay. Nothing's changed. Except..__.. _"Donnie? You still alive in there?"

**_"So, the turtle with the big brain finally doesn't have all the answers. Who'da thunk it?" _**Donatello lurched backwards, his breath being stolen fcrom his lungs, his eyes widening. _This _can't _be happening, _Don's brain screamed at him. _This isn't possible. Relapse. It's a relapse. Nothing to worry about. You're still sane... right? **But alas, in front of him Mikey was gradually changing, his eyes growing colder, and his smile growing thinner and slowly turning downwards,** __**his bandana seeming to appear to be growing upon itself, creating a near full-headed head accesory. Wounds caressed Mikey's sea green skin, before peeling away to reveal scars. His arm was bloody. His arm was bloody and there was blood everywhere. Blood was everywhere, his arm squirming of it's own accord like worms were wiggling around inside. His arm popped off, just a clean pop and then Mikey was talking. Mikey was talking and blood was pouring out of his mouth and Donnie could hear him cry, "Donnie! Donnie, I'm-!" Before blood pooled from an open chest wound and Mikey was **_**still _talking. Mikey was still talking, and he was moving towards him, his last arm reaching out. "Donnie. Donnie, I'm-.." His voice was thick with blood and age, "Donnie... I'm..." Mikey's blue eyes stared up at him. "I'm..." Relapsing. "...onnie... ...'m... nnie..." Oh shell, Mikey was still trying to talk to him. And the ruins of the sewer around them caused Donnie to cringe as Mikey continued to reach out to him, the realization that _this_ was happening again. "...nie.. I.." Then Mikey opened his mouth wide and cried out, but Donnie couldn't hear him because- _**"Donnie? Donnie! Are you okay? Dude, what's going on?"**_ - blood was pouring out in large amounts.__ Then blood was squirting at everything, it was in Donnie's eyes and in his mouth and nose and Mikey was still moving and Donnie couldn't take it, there was blood everywhere and, oh shell, Mikey was dying again and-_**

"Donnie? Dude? Donnie, I- oh shell, are you okay? You look like you're gonna.. Donnie?" Donatello reeled back, hands grasping at the an invisible force, a cry of anguish ripping from his throat as he fell. Then he knew he was stumbling, clawing away the hands that tried to steady him, the blue eyes that batted up at him, and the fear running through his younger brother's face as he watched his brother freak out. Don fell hard on his shell, taking Mikey down with him, and then Donnie was crying, but no tears would come out, only a muffled sound.

Crying and yelling out -as best as he could, because his throat was suddenly incredibly sore- how sorry he was, how terribly sorry and how he didn't mean to do it. His voice quiet and hoarse with tiredness, his vocal cries only heard by the sea green turtle in front of him. He was trying hard to swat Mikey's hands away, and he could still taste the blood, and can feel it everywhere on him. He could feel the pain of seeing his brothers die in front of him, and it was killing him, knowing that their deaths was his fault, that he let them die. Mikey, poor Mikey, was calling out to Donnie as he was being slaughtered by the Karai bots, and then Mikey was holding him and telling him that everything was okay.

"Donnie, everything's okay, dude," Mikey's voice penetrated through Don's thick cloud of thoughts. Don continued to tremble, his mouth uttering hoarse apologies, his tongue feeling thick and heavy like cement and he could still taste the blood. "Dude, calm down. I'm here. What are you apologizing for? There's nothing to be sorry for. I broke my own action figure, you didn't do it. Wait, did you?" Don's heart broke, and sniffled, coughing weakly. He forced a smile. Of course. Mikey wouldn't understand, no, of course not, he _wasn't _there. None of them were. He swallowed painfully, but the cool refreshing sensation of swallowing didn't come. Instead it caused him to break into a coughing fit, that actually only lasted a good thirty seconds. Mikey only thought that he broke his Silver Sentry toy. Only that. Why was Donnie blubbering anyways?

Because Donnie wasn't allowed to blubber. He never was allowed to, of course not. Because he was Donnie, because he was in control. Because.. _you killed your brothers. _The thought came unexpected and with a jolt, nearly causing him to cry out with anguish. Because it was his fault. His fault that they all died. _They died because of you. _But they depended on him. _You don't deserve their help. _When did he start referring to himself in third person? _Because you let them die. _But they were still alive, still breathing, and Mikey was comforting him. _You. Don't. Need. Help. _Then Donnie was calming his breathing, because he could do this without them. They don't need to know. _Because it's your burden to bear. You did it. _No! he wanted to scream back, but the words wouldn't come, and if he did then Mikey would try to find out why else Donnie might be blubbering like he was, if he hadn't been apologizing to them. _You were supposed to fight like a family. But yet you let them down. Seriously, what is wrong with you? _Donnie closed his eyes. _You abandoned them. _He took a shaky breath, and mouthed silently, as he closed his eyes. I know..

"Donnie?"

Donnie looked up, hesitantly, his grey eyes unseeing for a moment, his breath coming out jaggedy until he stilled it. "Yeah, Mikey, I'm fine.. I was just... worried how you'd react when I said I broke your Xbox360." Mikey's eyes widened dramatically as he took a sharp intake of breath, horror dawning in his eyes. Before Mikey could say anything, Donnie rushed on, "But I.. fixed it. Honest!"

_No, you didn't fix it. Because you didn't break it in the first place._

When _did _he start talking to himself anyways?

"I.. also broke your game."

_No, you lost it. Somewhere. Can't deny it to me._

Mikey studied Donatello for a moment, his blue eyes narrowing as he took a shaky breath, "Your right to be worried dude. Was it Halo 3?" Don grimaced and nodded. "Geez, Don, that's like, my favorite game. Actually, no, it's not. We can just buy it from the game store or something. No need to freak over it." Mikey grinned before saying, softly. "Hey, dude, you can still fix my Sentry though, right?"

The purple masked terrapin winced before smiling as best as he could. "Of course," he answered, his voice falsely confident. He could easily take apart before putting the TV back together, when he was around five, so sure, it wouldn't be a problem. Mr. Fix It can do it. If he can't, no one can. But that wasn't a very comforting thought.. because he handn't been able to save his brothers. He probably never could. That caused him to choke slightly, and almost made him want to cry. But he couldn't. Because he was Donatello. He was the most levelheaded, he was in control. He would be the leader probably if Leo wasn't. He can take care of his brothers easily. But one thing that Don did not do was cry. Because crying was the first sign of falling apart.

It was only day one, and Don very much, wanted to fall apart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the turtles... well, I simply wouldn't be writing this on fanfiction, now would I? I can only dream of it.

**A/N:** Special thanks to Randomchick16, T.D. Rayne, Dondena, thecartoongirl22, NJ7009, and I Love Kittens Too for reviewing. :)

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_Six days later._

Donatello swung his olive legs over the side of the bed, the bed feeling lumpy and very.. awkward to lay in, to say the least. He had tossed and turned most of the night, the horrors still fresh in his mind. He had made a makeshift one that was attached to the wall, it was easily foldable into the wall but not quite as comfy as he planned. He missed his _actual _room, not that he'd ever actually admit it to anyone - ecspecially his brothers.

He sighed, dropping his head into his hands, shivering even when a blanket was pooled around his waist, with sweat glistening on his arms and forehead he looked up wearily. He observed the laboratory. Everything seemed fine. _Fine. _He laughed bitterly at the word. The sound vibrating through his chest and out, slicing through the air like a knife through butter. It was the cruel laugh of a deranged madman.

If waking up from his dreams screaming was fine, then he was perfectly healthy. The laughter was cut off, no distant fading but a valid pregnant silence that filled the room. Not even his computers were on. He had unplugged them when they eerily reminded him of his empty laboratory at the _other _lair. He closed his eyes, his fingers easily covering the grey orbs.

_"-on? Wake up." Leo's voice broke through Don's hazy remnants of his dream, and he found himself about ready to throw up._

_He mentally slapped himself. No. This was name the same Leo; the Leo who was slaughtered. He was alive, breathing. Not dead. _Not yet, _his mind countered teasingly._

_Leo's worried eyes penetrated through Don's sleep-riddled mind. "Don, wake up. You're.. having a nightmare. Don, look at me. Everything's okay." Leo held Don as he mumbled incoherent sentences, eyes blinking like dimes, wavering, wavering._

_"Don, do you care to tell me what happened?"_

_"I- Bishop.. he.. he turned me into the monster again and I.. I killed you all," Don mumbled, finally stuttering and pulling out words from thin air. No, of course. It wasn't true, sure, he had nightmares of being turned into that.. monster but none enough to make him want to cry. It's because that nightmare one _isn't _about being turned into that.. thing, eh, Donnie-boy? Oh shell. __His inner monologue sounded like Raphael. That's it, he was definitely going insane._

_"-ay, Don. I won't let Bishop near you ever again." Leo's voice, calming, soothing. _Just let me be the little brother_, Don sighed in content, because sometimes.. being the older brother was too much work. Don, fix this, Don, fix that. What was he, a walking machine? Might as well be, for all the things they were making him do. Take care of your brothers while Leo is away, patch up their wounds, worry about when Raph will come back, if Mikey will even go get the mail. That sort of things. But that had been a while ago, and Leo was here now. And Leo was the big brother, he could scare away Don's fears. Because that's what big brothers did. But he would honestly give up having the chance to be the younger brother if it meant he could get rid of these nightmares. "... Although I have to say, when Karai killed me, it hurt pretty bad." The words were out of place, not relating to what Don just complained of. Don froze as Leo's voice snaked through Don's defenses and bit at him savagely - if only mentally. The heartache, the loss, the pain still lingered in Leo's voice._

_Don leaned back, eyes wavering dangerously close to crying as he assessed Leo's face. Leo's bandana was missing, scars lacing across his face, his sightless brown eyes vacant, staring at him. His face, so without hope, that it began to shatter through Don's mentality. "Anything would have been nice, Don. To know if you died, if you had even rebelled and joined the Shredder, _anything _would have been better. Instead of just hoping, and then nothing. You just left us, Don. You just left us."_

_Don bit back a cry of disbelief as he struggled, Leo's iron grip tightening on the olive turtle's forearms. "You left us to die."_

_..._

Pain rigged through Don's mind as he stumbled, crashing and rolling over on his makeshift bed in his lab. "No, no, NO." His throat screamed at him to get water, his eyes offering some, and he bit down onto the back of his hand to stop the tears, even if it meant causing a throbbing pain in his hand. He tore through his flesh, blood pooling from the indents in his flesh, but they weren't serious, only barely enough pressure to puncture. He clutched his hand clumsily to his plastron before evaluating what he just did. _... Seriously?_ That probably would have made him cry more, but to his numb amazement, he found that he couldn't cry.

"I'm sorry."

The words startled him badly, his eyes widening and he held his wounded hand to his mouth, pressing his mouth tightly against the tender wound. He muffled the bubbling laughter that threatened to spill out. He breathed ruggedly through his hand, his fingers feeling sticky with moisture as he continued to breathe heavily. When his breathing finally calmed, he found that his throat was constricting and he swallowed, before pulling his hand away. Was it him who spoke? He opened his mouth, a sob pouring out as he fought the urge to vomit continuously.

His hands fought numbly to steady himself as his hole world spun, warning bells clambering off in his mind. He blinked back tears. He was safe in his room, wasn't he? Of course, he had soundproofed it, had sensors hidden and would detect and send out an alarm if it didn't recognize the body type of the people who came in. It recognized all the turtles, Master Splinter, April, Casey, Leatherhead and a few others.. after all, he only let a select few into his laboratory, even Mikey. So, yes, it was most definitely safe. But that thought didn't quench the fear that surfaced through Don's hazed mind, that someone could easily just break in, disconnect his sensors. Wait, had he even turned them on this week? Ah, oh well.

He scrubbed his face with the heel of his hand, liquid prickling at his eyes as he took in a sharp intake of breath. He could cry; if he wanted to. His hand stilled in his scrubbing, his grey eyes flittering around them, uncertainty littering his gaze. Yes, he could, if he really wanted to. But crying was the first step of falling apart, and Donatello, did not, no matter what, fall apart. He disconnected his hand from his face and let his hand wander across his right shoulder, brushing across it. Nobody had noticed, Don had even forgotten it. It was a scar, he touched it every night, even time he felt himself slipping away; falling apart. His breath hitched, tears springing to his eyes again, blood trickling gently down his hand as he continued to feel along the scar. It was an indent, only a few shades shy from his actual skin color. His eyes closed. He got the scar when Mikey -the _other _Mikey, his corrected himself- had saved him from those goons that commanded Don to surrender on the first day he was lasted there. The bullet had just barely missed him, grazing across the skin.

Letting his hand drop, he looked towards the lab door. Yes, he could cry. Nobody would come, and find out, nobody would notice. He closed his eyes and looked away. Yes, he could cry. The thought became pleasant, his form shaking obviously as he tried to still his breathing at least enough to be considered calm. When he started to cry, he wasn't sure. Nor for how long, either. All he knew was that he was crying, the pain opening up and pouring out, the hurt, the anguish, the confusion; everything... just poured out. He continued to bleed out these tears, all of it feeling cool against his warmed skin. And he welcomed it, even if it meant he was falling apart.

At one point, he would open his eyes and look vacantly in front of him. He wasn't sure if he could stop, but stop he did, in fear of someone coming to check if he fell asleep. Then he realized that nobody ever did anymore; because he pushed them away. Because he had become snappy, moody, and wouldn't look at them sometimes. Because he was protecting them from the fact that he killed them in another life. Because he had built up the security systems day in and day out to the point of exhaustion, just to make sure that Karai can't suddenly appear and slaughter them. Because protection was all that mattered now, because _they _mattered.

He wasn't sure when he got up, or when he fished out a bound journal and began to write, but write he did. He wrote about everything portraying to his journey. It made it real, like the scar that he touched every time he found himself on the verge of being torn apart -the scar he had gotten form that vile world-. He wrote about Mikey's poor arm, how Leo, after realizing Don was there, had such.. hope on his once hope-ridden face. How Raph was littered with scars, the photo of Casey, April.. old, old April. Splinter's grave. He wrote about everything, even his hallucinations, and with each word he wrote, the weight on his shoulders lifted immensly. By writing in this journal, he was confessing that all of it happened, and all the while he was crying again. He would write in this journal for over the next few days, instead of any projects and only stopped to eat once in a while when Mikey nagged him enough like a motherhen. Two weeks, he had spent in that world, and two weeks worth of writing went into that journal in the three days that followed the day he first cried. He wasn't sure how or why, but he had stayed longer in that world than his brothers. His theories were written down, everything he speculated about the world.

But their faces; their faces haunted his eyes waking moment he strayed from the journal. He could see everything like it happened before, when he looked at them. They would judge him, he knew. They all would. It was after his three or four days of journal writing that he realized, that he was already falling apart. Then he would cry again; cry and wail in his lab while his brothers continued to worry about him, not voicing their worry, because they figured, Don would come out when he wanted to tell them.

The journal had never been intended to be read, it had been filled with crossed out words, and torn pages, loose pages, and sketches. Don was no artist, but all of his emotions poured into his writing and drawings. It had never _ever _been intended to be read. But of course, there came a day when Don's fear of it would come true. The day that Raph came up to Don, pity in his once hard eyes, the journal clutched in his hand, and Don knew, that it was all over. Everything was over. Everything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the turtles, well, Don's brothers would be there to comfort him about it.

**A/N: **Special thanks to _The White Grim_, _IAmTheDragonEmpress_, _NJ7009_, _Vampy_, _I Love Kittens too_ , and _cartoongirl22_ for your reviews. Every single review I get encourages me to write more. :) So it's a real inspiration, knowing that people like what I write.

Alas, I should also keep on adding to this, but after a while I run out of ideas of what to write.

* * *

_"I smile but my whole world is crashing down."_

_-K Moo_

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To say that Donatello felt relieved that he could finally confide in someone about his dreaded secret.. would be undoubtedly a lie, a pained lie that would've made him cry. His grey eyes, cold and hardened within the past few days, looked away. He would try to smile, but his whole face seemed to freeze in a sort of state of shock.

"Don, mind tellin' me what this is?" Raph's rough Brooklyn accent startled Don into realizing that he was holding a cup of coffee, his hand severely starting to shake, eyes looking around frantically for a way to escape. "'Cause, it sure looks like shell to me."

Don hesitantly tried to raise the cup to his mouth, his hand feeling like bricks and the weight of the cup felt like twice the weight. Staring down into it, he decided it looked unappetizing, before forcing himself to take a quick swig. Avoid eye contact, avoid eye contact, Don's sentences became like a chant in his head. Avoid eye contact and he'll forget about it.

But he didn't.

"Don. I mean it; what the shell happened there?"

Crap.

Don lowered his cup, the taste of coffee rolling across his tongue, the bitter taste seemed too bland and too ordinary, making Don want to wretch. He stared numbly down at his hand, imagining the small puncture wounds still were there. They weren't. He opened his mouth, trying to form words but nothing coherent came out. He tried again with the same result before finally uttering a small question, "How.. how far d-did you get?" His voice sounded raspy like he had been coughing, and he instinctively brought his free hand to his throat and felt along it.

Raph's sharp yellow eyes stared at Don, as if that was the last thing he expected him to say. "Up 'til April was talkin' about Casey." He confessed, his eyes darkening briefly, "Is this why you've been so distant, Don? Why your so obsessed with fine-tuning our security?"

Dead silence greeted both ends before Don leaned back, eyes wavering slight, his breathing shallow as he clenched desperately at the coffee cup as if it was a life preserver and was the only thing that kept him above water. _No, _his mouth formed the words before he uttered a small, "Yes."

"What the shell happened there?"

Don blinked at him, looking Raph up and down before saying in such a small voice that his immediate older brother had to lean forward to hear him. "You all died." A dead weight settled along the atmosphere around the room, Raph's eyes widening in what Don presumed was surprise before Don averted his eyes. He wouldn't _-couldn't-_ look at Raph now. Raph fidgeted, intaking a sharp breath and setting the journal on the counter. Raph opened his mouth, his mouth forming the words 'What?' but nothing came out but a shocked breathy sigh. "And.. and it was all my fault," Don mumbled, grey eyes misting over. _I will not cry, I will not cry... will not... _He blinked away forming tears. He took in another shaky intake of breath and stared at Raph, willing him to ask nothing more, but by adding to the conversation, he unwillingly pushed Raph to the point of deadly curiousity; which, needless to say, he wouldn't normally reach at times.

"Don? What the shell... how?" Raph stressed out, eyes narrowing dangerously and Don gulped involuntarily. Crap. Raph couldn't properly form real sentences. Not good, not good at all. Don opened his mouth but nothing came out but a small squeak and that only seemed to piss Raph off, because the red-branded turtle shoved the journal off of the kitchen counter and moodily became to approach Don at an alarming speed, even for a ninja. "Donatello, you can not avoid my question."

Don teeted backwards and just for a moment, just for a split second, he actually saw Raph's older self surface, in place of Raph's old self. _**Raph's bandana was fluttering in a dead wind, the walls tumbling down around them. His solo eye was watching Don, calculating, judging his movements like a predator. Like a cat playing with a mouse.** _"Don?" _**His smile, such a cruel smile darkened his face as he advanced towards Don slowly, mouth forming words that Don couldn't hear. But he could still hear the other -younger- Raph's voice droning over the hallucination.**_"Don, this ain't funny." _**Don leaned back, grey eyes wavering slightly, judging Raph. "So ya finally came back," Raph's voice channeled towards Don, who reeled away as if slapped. "After all these years, ya finally come back."**_

_**Then for a fleeting moment, Mikey's voice fluttered through. "Who'da thunk it?"**_

_**Don couldn't register anything more as shock blew through his mind. He glanced unseeingly towards the shattered wall of the lair, everything crumbling apart. And it's**_**_ all-_**

"My fault."

Then a calm voice filled with worry asking cautiously, "Don?"

Don's eyes fluttering towards Raph, like grey wounded butterflies, and he couldn't hold back his emotions anymore. He couldn't be strong like Leo; concealing his emotions, he couldn't be like Mikey who can laugh anything off, he couldn't be like Raph who punched this to vent it out. He was the glue that kept the team together, and he had to be strong, Mikey -the _other _Mikey he mentally corrected himself- had told him so. But strong was something he wasn't. He had to keep his emotions bottled up and it simply wasn't fair. "I let you all die and it's all my fault, I left and it was all my fault." Don's voice shattered, his eyes darkening as he blubbed, eyes like a slowing butterfly's wings, blinking away unshed tears. He couldn't hold it together, not with the hallucations happening day in and day out, not with the journal taunting him every day. He couldn't stop writing in it anyways, because he had to explain everything; had to even explain his nightmares that haunted him every night. He couldn't smile and pretend everything was okay when his whole world was falling apart. But smile he did, a horrible smile that seemed to stretch and crack his face, a pained and sketched smile that looked as if it was killing Don to do it.

The horrible thing was, it would have looked quite peaceful any other time. Realization was dawning on Raph's face as he slowly understood. Don had _smiled _that same creepy smile every day for the past week, and it hadn't looked creepy, hadn't looked pained or forced, until now. Because he finally knew why Don smiled so much nowadays; he smiled because he was falling apart and didn't want to let his brothers see. Then Don looked up at Raph with such dead, pleading eyes. "Don't tell anyone, Raph, please," his voice, once full of life sounded like a dead weight. Raph stared numbly at him. "Don't tell them because they'll judge me, because it's my fault, and it will happen. Again, and again, and again and it'll always be my fault. Please; don't tell them." Don stood abruntly up, and picked up the journal off of the floor, eyes misting over. "Please, Raph.. don't tell anyone. It's my burden. I didn't mean to get you involved." Raph could see the pain that filtered through Don's eyes, his sad and painful gaze that pleaded, silently - _h__elp me._

Don stumbled away, vision blurring as he walked straight into the corner of the wall, and rubbed absently at the numb pain that filtered through the right side of his face. He walked away, and the dumb realization that he was halfway of falling apart right in front of Raph was slowly dawning upon him. Of course, it had to be Raph. But if Raph was good at anything - it was keeping a secret from his other brothers; particularily Leo. Don was counting on it.

He flitted towards the lab door, eyes blinking slowly as she did all the nessesary things to access his lab. Which included but wasn't limited to, a hand scan, as well as an eye scan, and numerous keys to unlock the door. The security measures, he had often explained to his brothers, was to keep Mikey out, but now... now Raph knew the real reason, if he thought about it. Don doubted he did. The door swung open as he stepped in and walked towards his main computer desk and threw the journal down and merely glanced at it when it fell open to a random page. He knew the words perfectly enough to know what they said.

_- The ruins of the place was horrible to look at, now with my brothers dead. They shouldn't have died it wasn't their time. They still had their lives to live. Looking back, I know what I could have done better to save them. Modifications. But there was always that one error. That one error that keeps on killing them, one flaw in every single one of my plans. I know. I dream about it everynight, different dreams usually but normally the same one. I can't save them. I think of new plans but I can _never _save them._

_"My brothers. My poor brothers. This world. This future. It's a nightmare."_

_April is looking at me, with her cold and hardened eyes. A sort of cold smile was splayed across her face. Then she said-_

"It _was_ a nightmare, Don. But you, Leo, Raph, and Mikey, you gave us back our future," he said softly. His throat closed up, realizing that he knew April's words off by heart, but of course - who could forget something like that? He knew the answer too. Nobody could. Ecspecially not him. Not now, not ever. Nothing could make him forget. But it didn't stop him from trying.

But then he kneeled, and for his brothers, for himself, for Casey and April, for everyone in that cruel world, he wept for them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the turtles, sadly.

**A/N: **Thank you, _R__andomchick16_, _NJ7009, __thecartoongirl22,__ Shadowcat2428, The White Grim, TigerNinja16,_ and _I Love Kittens Too_for your reviews. :)

* * *

_"All good things must come to an end, but all bad things can continue forever."_

_-Unknown_

* * *

A dead, heavy silence weighed upon the room, and Don found himself staring loosely up at the ceiling blankly. He laughed bitterly before rolling over and closing his eyes. When sleep came, it was of the pain and fear that lingered still in his heart. It was a restless sleep, of which he awoke from in a matter of moments, unheard voices taunting him, because he knew they were there. In his dreams, he was loosing all his senses, and that seemed the worst of all. All he knew was touch and even that was failing him. But the pain was still there, it would always be there. Forever.

He swung himself out of the bed and sauntered over towards the lab door, hands reaching out, uncertain and for a split moment, he panicked. Everything was a sense of jumbled emotions as he stumbled, everything a senseless blurr before he realized where he was. He fidgeted before steadying himself, supporting himself along the wall. His once strong grey gaze was nothing more but a puddle of shadows, vacant and bloodshot of endless nights of crying himself to sleep.

All of his brothers had kept their distances; Mikey, not so much. He was curious, watching Don with a thoughtful expression that didn't really suit him and prowled around him like Don was a landmine, possible to blow up at any given moment. There was such a pain in his eyes, but the pain couldn't dare rival Don's own, and it never would. Because he never saw what Don himself saw. Nobody ever could. Don stared numbly at the door handle, as if he could telekinetically open it. Try as he might, it wouldn't budge, and he tilted his head a bit, and sighed. Of course, it would never work, it simply never did. He knew it never would but part of him hoped... he closed his eyes, a breathy sigh dropping from his olive lips. He hoped for many things, but he had his hopes shattered enough times to consider to not even hope at all. There was no point to it. No point at all.

He opened his eyes solemnly, staring at his hand as he moved it towards the door handle. As he touched it, he swore he phased through it, like he did many times in his dreams nights before before zipping towards that horrible nightmare, like what happened the first time he was sent there. Metaphorically speaking, he had been sent there many times before, in his dreams. Every single time, he watched his poor brothers die. His hand clenched the handle fiercely, turning his knuckles a lighter shade. Then he would phase out again and he'd wake up in his room. He feared that sometime, he wouldn't be able to wake up. To be lost in that world; without his true brothers, would truly kill him eventually.

He coughed awkwardly, daring to make his hand twist the handle, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He never could, not on his own. But then he would feel the presence of his other brothers and they would gently touch his hand and then he _would _turn it. His eyes wavered, and twisted the handle fiercely with a quick tug and swung it open, almost startling himself. He half-stumbled out of his lab and nearly fell down, a gasp of surprise squeezed out before he steadied himself.

"Donnie~? Are you up~?" Mikey's familiar chimey singsong voice trailed up from downstairs and Don fought the urge to bolt and abandon the world, to disappear into his lab and speak solely only through walkietalkies and other devices. He could survive for a good week without food, water.. well, he'd worry about it later. He turned swiftly, nearly bumping into the corner of the his door, but then Mikey's voice halted him. "Donnie? Dude, are you going to help me make breakfast? Don't pretend your sleeping; I heard your door open~." Don registered that comment as a rather stalkerish sentence and grunted in laughter, a harsh and cold laughter boiling up his throat. "Donnie? Don, dude, are you okay?" Mikey's words fluttered up from downstairs as the younger terrapin trudged up.

Don barked back a laugh, "I'm fine." His voice was rough and came out sounding horrible, as if he was a new clone of Raph. He shivered at the thought, quickly dismissing his thoughts about Raph before his train of thought was disrupted and he began to think about what happened a few nights before. "Or do you want me to start spending time thinking about how I should truthfully answer you?" His voice cracked, before he meaningfully coughed and licked his lips before glancing up at Mikey, who stared dumbfounded at him.

"...So.. you're not fine?" Mikey said, confusion all over his face and simply couldn't have been clearer unless someone had written it across his face. "Because I like, don't get what your saying. Oh, is this a game? You know how much I love games~." Mikey clapped his hands together before staring uncertainly at Don's face then tilted his head uncertainly, "...or is this not a game? Are you tired, Donnie? Want me to let you sleep it off? I'll just tell Leo your sick~ ...Like you have been for the past couple of weeks, right? That has been why you've been missing practice, right?" Mikey forced a smile before girlishly squealing, "You probably are! I know! I'll go get you some soup! Soup is always good~ even in the mooorn-iiiings~." He stretched the word before sprinting down the steps, "I'll go get some for you~."

"That sure got right of him," Don muttered hoarsely under his breath, eyes narrowing suspiciously after the bounding orange-masked terrapin. Then he hesitated before pretending to hack up a lung, "Ah, nope. Being sick -even pretending- will be a workout for me." He whistled a tuneless song before turning around, meaning to close his door when a hand slammed into the wall next to his head.

"Good to know ya ain't sick, eh, Don?" Don's false grin fell as he nearly teetered and screamed like a girl in surprise. He caught his scream quickly and swifly turned around to glare at the opposing threat. Don's words died in his throat as he saw Raph's confused and gentle eyes, his normally fierce look gone. Raph's bandana was no-where to be found but as he stared at Raph, he noticed how wet he was from the shower, water trickling off of his immediate older brother. A red towel hung around his shoulders, his face a fierce mask but his eyes always gave it away. "..I want ya to know I took it, ya journal. I read it Don, and I ask ya, are ya okay?"

Anger boiled up inside of Donnie as he stared at Raph, his hands clenching into fists before opening slowly. "Am I.. _okay_? I watched my... own brothers _die_, and your wondering if I'm _fine_?" He stressed out the words, his normally calm anger rising like steam. He jabbed a finger in Raph's face. "You didn't see what I saw, so you have no _right _to ask if I'm okay." He breathed heavily through his nose before whipping through the open way that Raph left and began to storm away.

"It ain't a right, Don, it's a responability," Raph muttered, nearly stopping Don in his tracks, at least enough for him to stop and consider briefly of Raph's words, which sounded oddly like something Leo would say. Don glared over his shoulder, and Raph all too eagerly returned it. In a huff, Don marched off, his anger quickly simmering down until he was breathing calmly, unshed tears prickling his eyes as he sniffled. It was usually unbearable, not being able to tell them everything. He blinked, shaking his head, forcing back a cough. He was driving himself to sickness, trying to protect his brothers, and his mental state certainly wasn't helping anything. He sighed, leaning against the wall, half-paying attention to Raph's receding footsteps.

"-id you want the shower next?"

The question startled Don badly, as he whipped around, nearly colliding into Leo's pastron. Don stumbled in shock and Leo nimbly caught him before he fell, chiding beneath his breath his lacking balance capabilities. Leo gripped Don's forearms until the younger terrapin had steadied, and an awkward silence drifted between them. Don glanced uneasily aside, feeling too foolish to even ask what Leo to repeat himself. A ninja must pay attention to his surroundings, after all.

"I asked if you wanted the shower next, Don," Leo supplied, staring keenly at Don's crestfallen face. "You probably need it, staying up late working on that project of your's."

A confused grey gaze flitted up to meet Leo's warm brown ones. Don opened his mouth, tried speaking before coughing and trying again. "Wh-what?"

Leo blinked calmly at Don, as if he expected this. "The project. You know, the one _**to save us from being** **killed.**_"

Shock registered in Don's brain quickly, before he shuddered and uttered a hoarse laugh. _Damn hallucinations, _he chided to himself. _He just sounded like... the other Leo, that's all. I.. it's nothing. _"Pardon?" Don asked, his voice tight and high.

Leo sent him a confused look, "..The project? The one which you are helping reprogram Raph's shellcycle; programming it with a tracking system as well as a moniter which enables him to watch over the city, showing the hotspots for attacks."

Don blinked dumbly and slowly at Leo, before he realized.. Raph was _helping _him by covering for him. "Oh, _that_ project," he huffed pleasantly, forcing a grin. Another load of work, a sane section of his mind taunted him. "Right. That-... that is why I'm... uh."

"Late for practices," the eldest terrapin supplied.

Don's face relaxed, "Yes, late for practice. Thank you. Raph has been.. showing me what we've been learning, so, don't worry about me." He forced a smile, and the grim look on Leo's face lessened. Of course Leo would be worried solely about training; mention that your still training and he gets off your shell, easy as that. "But yes, a shower sounds nice." Don trudged past Leo towards the bathroom, before dragging out a towel from the closet and closing the door with a _click. _

* * *

Leo's face was smiling until Don disappeared into the shower, before turning around and glancing down the hallway that Raph had dispersed to. He glanced over towards the door where Don had disappeared into, as if daring him to reappear. Leo narrowed his chocolate brown eyes, huffing a bit in annoyance. Don has been avoiding them all, holing themselves up in his lab, and rarely even came out to eat anymore. Anybody could tell that he was quickly getting sick from lack of nutrients and-

"If ya glare at that door any longer ya gonna burn a hole right through it, Fearless," Raph's brooklyn voice broke through Leo's train of thought. He sounded downright amused and that strung a nerve, and Leo rounded on him, mouth agap to shoot back a retort when he noticed Raph's rather vacant gaze, which was positioned to look at the bathroom door, the steady drone of the water being muffled by the plank of wood. "He ain't well, Leo." Leo stared coldly at Raph before turning to glance at the door. "He's killing himself worrying. It ain't right."

Leo's brotherly instincts kicked in and killed the eldest's last bits of rage. "What?"

Raph looked towards Leo before scoffing, rubbing along his shoulders with his towel. "Don't pretend ya didn't notice. Don's been different since he came back from that other world. Ya know, the one that he only mentioned as being a 'super genuis' and 'killer toasters' or some shit like that." Leo's startled look caused Raph to still in his movements before draping the towel across his shoulder and leaning in close. "Ya _didn't _notice, did ya, Fearless?" He made a low disapproving whistle sound. He grinned, "Looks like that makes me tha only one. Makes me almost worry about ya, ya ain't sick too are ya?"

Leo looked uncomfortable before jumping quickly to his defense, "No. I'm not; and I'd prefer if you didn't use such vulgar language."

Raph's bark of a laugh came suddenly, "Don is killin' himself and ya are only worried about my _language_?" He continued to rumble with laughter, grinning at the look of disgust quickly traveling up onto Leo's face. "I don't give a damn, Fearless, 'bout my shitty language. Got it? What ya need to worry 'bout is Don. He sure ain't openin' up to me. Ya better do it for me, eh?" He grinned mockingly at him before tossing his towel at him, "'Cause I sure don't wanna get the knucklehead of our family involved too, if we don't hafta." Raph's emerald face suddenly grew serious, "He doesn't need to be worryin' neither, despite being a bonehead. Ya better change things, Fearless, or else things are gonna go downhill from here, 'cause dis... I thinks is only the beginning. Best to end it now." Then without allowing a word of protest to come from Leo, he stormed off.

Leo's chocolate eyes flitted towards the bathroom door before sighing, had Don heard any of that? He doubted it, but he also doubted that Don was even in the shower. "Don, I'd prefer if you'd confide in us, we're your brothers, we deserve to know. This isn't only your problem. We can deal with this together." He glanced disapprovingly towards the door before walking away, knowing full well that Don heard him.

Then a small voice piped up from behind the door, just as Leo moved out of earshot. "No, Leo, I won't. This is my problem." Then the water shut off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the turtles; I'd be a whole lot older.

**A/N: **Oh, wow. Chapter five already? I never knew that it'd make it this far. I'm finding that I'm liking this chapter the most. :) (Did anyone else dress up as a ninja turtle and badger people for candy?) Mikey is.. being wise? Raph knowing about the machine; Leo being an idiot? What is going on? The newest developement and most important one, is what is going on. This chapter changes the course of the story and I rather enjoy that fact. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this.

* * *

The last thing that Don ever wanted to do, was worry his brothers. But even he knew, that he was quickly making them worry. The nightmares had ceased to dark figures in his dreams, but the voices were still there. They would always be there. He would close his eyes to think, but he never did. He barely even worked on his own inventions nowadays, let alone even doing anything else. He was a ghost of his former self, a breeze in the wind, like a falling house of cards.

He stared uneasily at the coffee pot, daring it to move quicker. He rarely slept now, and making -and drinking- coffee seemed to be the only possible solution. He placed his palms against the counters and let his head hang, grumbling to himself about how many calories coffee had and if he should have it black or with cream and sugar today.

The noise of clattering bowls caught his attention as he looked up; alarmed, to see his younger brother standing there, huffing in discomfort as he balanced a soup bowl on a tray, staring at Don with such seriousness that he found himself wary. "You need to eat, Donnie," Mikey's high voice startled Don into jumping a little in surprise. It was full of anguish, guilt, and worry for his older brother.

"I'm not hungry," Don commented blandly, as Mikey set down the tray with a loud clatter, soup spilling everywhere, even spraying Mikey and Don themselves. He glared at the bowl before adding, "And your not making me eat that." He heard Mikey's sharp intake of breath and spared a fleeting moment to glance up at his brother.

Michelangelo was the chef in the family and took it to the heart when people didn't dare try his food. Mikey flushed a deep green color -that made Don worry about his health for a moment- before taking a hesitant step back. An angry Mikey was worse than a bored Mikey - and that's pretty bad. "Donnie, you need to eat, we're worried about you.." Mikey's voice came out bitter, and Don recoiled like Mikey had slapped him across the face. Mikey grimaced before touching the base of his own throat before sweeping his arm around the room, obviously distressed, "You.. you can't even.. can't even fix a lightbulb in your state!"

Don's grey eyes narrowed as he stared blandly into Mikey's blue ones, "I - I can too!" The soft sound of a click alerted him and he whipped around, eager to find something else to focus on. "Besides, I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself, thank you very much." Oh shell, he was sounding like Raph or something. He poured the liquid into a cup and went to go get the cream and sugar. "I am able to fend for myself."

"Which is exactly why you boiled milk."

Don set down the sugar bowl and jar of cream before staring into his cup; the statement coming from Mikey's mouth had startled him. He frowned, before cursing loudly, startling Mikey into jumping. He grabbed ahold of the cup and swished the liquid around inside before frowning and quickly turned towards the sink, dumping it's contents down the drain. As the milk made a glubbing sound as it slithered down, Don poured the rest of the coffee pot down too.

"...Are you okay?"

"_No, _Mikey, I'm not okay! And I'm sick and tired of pretending that I am when I just want to die for what I did!" Don huffed out, gripping the handle of the coffee pot like it was a life preserver, until his knuckles turned white and he found himself taking ragged breaths to calm himself. He glanced at Mikey over her shoulder, finally registering the younger one's look of confusion and hurt. Don took a deep breath before rattled on in his head about what he just said. Well, shell. That never meant to come out. So he sputtered out the first lie that came to mind. "..I broke the Xbox."

Understanding then horror flooded Mikey's face as he gasped aloud. "You... broke the Xbox?" A small nod. Mikey gasped again before practically screaming out, and shattering Don's hearing, "Nooooooo!" Mikey covered his face with his hands before looking at Don expectantly, hope glimmering in his teary eyes. "You can fix it though, right?" After seeing the olive turtle nod, the sea green terrapin jumped and clapped his hands together. "Yess! Alright, I forgive you." Hopping over to Donnie, he picked up the tray and held it out expectantly to him, the soup splashing everywhere, until there was less than a quarter left by the time he reached Donnie. "..only if you eat this." Don stared down at it, disgust rolling into his eyes and bile threatening to climb up. Her stomach growled silently for it, yet he didn't feel hungry. Mikey's smile fell before he frowned, a pecular sight indeed, and set the tray beside Donnie. Carefully, he wrapped his bigger hands -as Don only realized this now- around Don's and gently plucked each finger from the coffee pot and setting it carefully and with expertise on the counter next to them. "Na na na nah~ turn that frown upside down, Donnie. You don't have to eat the soup, you know."

He put his hands over Don's again before carefully examining the palms with his fingers, watching Don's face. He traced over the small wood burns and smiled, a true Mikey smile before gently kissing the tips of each finger, like Mikey always did when Don was distressed when they were younger. "You always use your hands for everything, don't you?" The question was more intended as a statement but Don found himself looking away, nodding in confirmation. "And your head, you always use your head. But never your heart." Slowly, he rested his palm against Don's plastron, "Don?" Shell, Mikey was being serious now. He rarely ever called Donatello Don. "Why don't you listen to your heart for once and let us take care of you, instead of the other way around? Let us take care of you Don, or at least stop thinking for once, just for a little while."

Tears prickled at Don's eyes, he carefully unwound his smaller hands away from Mikey, turning away quickly and wrapping his arms around himself, letting out a small cry of distress that Mikey quickly registered. "Donnie?" he asked, his usually pepper mood shattering again as he reached out to comfort his older brother. This is more serious, he realized, frowning with displeasure, before carefully grabbing onto Don's shoulder. "Dude, it's okay. It's okay to cry in front of me." No, it's not, Donnie wanted to scream at him but already he found himself leaning forward and clutching desperately at himself, his breathing shaky and irregular. His vision grew misty as he tried to calm himself. "Just let it go."

Then he cried, barely enough for Mikey to register that he was, but he realized it as soon as he saw Don's form shaking. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around his older brother in a comforting manner, trying to calm him. "Sh, it's okay, dude. I'm here." Abruntly, the shaking stoppe, startling Mikey to let go. Don wiped at his eyes with the base of his palm, where his hand connected to his wrist. His breathing was still coming in short pants, and his eyes beginning to be rim with redness, but when Mikey looked closer, he realized that infact, Donnie had not cried. "C'mon, I'll know something that will cheer you up." He beamed, "I already asked Leatherhead to bring it over, yup. So in fact, I'll just bring the thingamajig out and we can look at it together, you know? Like brothers, and then.. and then we can test it out. I'm sure you'll like it."

Donnie looked at him through a haze before smiling, nodding, willing to do anything to get this abrunt burning sensation to leave. "Sure, why not?" he muttered, his voice cracking, before he coughed and forced a smile. "Might as well watch over it, right? Make sure you don't break it. Otherwise it'd be another thing that I have to fix." Mikey's face split into a relieved grin as he bounded away, dragging Donnie behind with him.

* * *

The computer spat out data at him. _The atoms would then rearrange themselves into.._

"..So it's a teleportation device," Don said abruntly, cutting Mikey off of his amateur explaination, despite the fact that the computer was also explaining the whole process - in a more detailed format. He stared expectantly at the younger turtle, who fondled the headset and laptop screen with ease.

"Well, yeah, I guess so," Mikey confirmed. "We could go anywhere we wanted. Heck, we could go to the pizza parlor. 'It can be any period of time,' he said, 'It'll be easy. Just ask Donatello.' So I am asking you, 'cause Leatherhead didn't explain it in my language." He wrinkled in nose in distaste before smiling, "But anyways, yeah. You just have to set the program up, I guess, on the computer, and just plug it in and hook it up. He made it into a floppy disk too, to store the data or something like that on, you have to have it in too. He gave us two headsets, so we can go at the same time!"

It looked really complex, as Don realized as he examined it when Mikey let him touch it. His head was turned to the device but he looked up at Mikey, a question in his eyes. "This can go anywhere, huh?" he asked, subconsciously.

"Yup."

"Okay, I guess, might as well try it out." Donnie sighed before shoving the helmet into Mikey's hands while he began to fasten his own onto his own head. It was larger than he would have preferred, really, but he didn't mind. Not too much, at least. He fastened the buckle under his chin and began to type something into the computer. _Access allowed. Welcome, Donatello. Booting up, 7% complete. _The computer read. Don grinned before wondering briefly on how exactly Leatherhead had even figured out such a technology - let alone prop it so that it fit onto a laptop and two headsets. _27% complete._ He'd have to ask about it later. The next thought came unexpectedly; did Leatherhead die in the future? _59% complete._ He stiffened at the thought. He couldn't bear it if the croc had died too. _62% complete._ He briefly wondered how April was faring before trying to -and failing- to brush the subject off._ 76% complete._

"-eads thoughts so it teleports us there, so.." _89% complete._

"What?" Don turned in alarm towards Mikey, who stared blankly at him before smiling at Don's foolishly. _92% complete._ Please, oh shell, please no, he thought. Please let it not-

"The Croc Doc said something like it reads our thoughts, and teleports us there, so we have to be really careful. It arranges our moleaculls or something like that, the friction in the air would... like, uh, vibrate, and... um, I don't know. That's all I remember.. I was distracted; I was chewing gum."

"It reads thoughts?" Don let out a pained squeak. With a cry he tried to tear off the headset, much to Mikey's building confusion- _Uploading complete. Teleportation destination decided _- before he thought of...

Oh shell.

* * *

"What? He went to.. that... _that _dystopia and didn't bother telling _us_?" Leo's voice rose, making Raph glare at him before motioning for him to be quiet. Leo's voice lowered as he glanced at his arm, the green coated in a rather disturbing blood red, that almost looked black. "I'll need him to assess this, though."

"What? Ya just went from worried for him and now ya worried 'bout yaself?" Raph challenged, glaring at Leo, a growl threatening to spill out. "Dammit, Fearless! He _almost died. _He watched _us _die. 'M surprised he even made it three weeks without worryin' nonstep. Fearless, ya don't understand, this is serious. He is killing himself over it. Ya were worried last week when I told ya, but ya didn't listen very well did ya!" Normally, he would have been pleased at such a developement of Leo not listening, but this was serious. "We died in front of him, Leo." Leo looked sharply at Raph, the shock of actually being called 'Leo' was written on his face. "We didn't and it fer _his _plan. Fer shell's sake.. he even has friggin _nightmares. _Shredder _ruled _the _world. _Ya really think he'd be fine after somethin' like that?" Raph looked in distaste in Leo's direction before turning again, "I'll hafta confront Don about it, show ya the journal too. Nobody should go through that. Not even him."

He opened the lair door and stepped through, briefly checking his forearm to see how quickly it was bruising from that run-in with the Foot ninja. Leo coughed meaningfully, and Raph glanced up, an angry retort on his lips when it suddenly died just as he opened his mouth to shout at Leo. They stared awkwardly into the living room; the TV overturned and the screen shattered, the couch blown back, the rug askew and scorch marks searing the walls, a picture falling to the ground unnoticed, static charge filtering through the air. In the middle of this disaster stood the coffee table and a laptop, with two sets of wires connected to it, where the ends have been singed off.

Leo hesitantly marched forward and touched the ends of the wires, before recoiling and inspecting his fingers, waggling them before his eyes. Black marks coated his finger tips and he stared in distaste at the laptop before touching it, flinching at the scorching heat. He was surprised it hadn't melted but in a matter of two minutes or more it had cooled to the point of touchability, but Leo had been through worse and inspected it before then. He began to boot it up, after searching for the power button for a good minute.

Raph shoved Leo aside with one arm, meaning for him to move, but when he didn't he just snarled and tore the laptop away from him, muttering to the leader about how stupid he was about computers. Raph searched through the computer before finding the program that was opened last. Leo read from over his shoulder, frowning in thought.

"This was... a teleportation device?" Leo's voice was disbelieving, "How'd it... wouldn't it be bigger than this?"

"Which is probably why it malfunctioned," Raph muttered, suddenly he stiffened, glancing at the brain waves of the two specimens connected to it. "Aw, shell."

"...Did... Mikey and Don use this?" Leo asked hesitantly, knowing full well that he was trodding into unknown territory, as far as he was concerned. They stared at the spike in one of their brothers' brain waves that was charted on the screen. "Does this mean it.. read thoughts?" The terrapin sounded helpless, as technology was anything _but _his forte, but he at least knew this.

"Shell, shell, shell, shell. Do ya know what dis means?" Raph suddenly roaded, shoving the laptop away in disgust. "One of them panicked, it reads thoughts, Fearless, and it _teleports them there._"

"You'll have to be more specific. And watch your language."

"Furget about my language fer once! Dammit, they _teleported._"

"..Where?"

"..I think, to the one place that could seriously kill 'em," Raph's voice rose in anger at Leo's dis-understanding, he looked seriously at Leo's face. "They might be trapped there, fer all we know. In the place that Don fears most."

A pregnant silence greeted them as realization dawned on Leo's face, but he didn't dare say it, didn't want to make it true.

"The place where he watched us die."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **If I owned it I would.. well, let's not go there.

**A/N: **(Can anyone else spot the Kingom Hearts reference?) Yes, this is indeed the last chapter, and I'm sure all of you will hate me at the end of this.

_Special thanks to Vertical Fall, T. D. Rayne, dondena, thecartoongirl22, NJ7009, I Love Kittens too, The White Grim, IAmTheDragonEmpress, Vampy, Shadowcat2428, Tiger Ninja 16, Just Call Me J, Nim Draug, Ariddle-Ascare, and everyone else who enjoyed this._

* * *

**"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light."**

**-Helen Keller**

* * *

Dust flew, everything around them scorching, waves of intense heat rolling off of the helmets, nerves rattled, and a strong, steady, consistent pounding in their heads. They landed sourly on their shells, softening their fall for only fraction. Stiffly, the purple masked terrapin got up, unfastening the buckle beneath his chin, the leather feeling as hot as spilled coffee as he gripped underneath the helmet along the side, before wrenching it from his head, feeling like he was being suffocated. Inspecting his hand, he realized that he had burned himself, and he only half-registered this. He swallowed, before something gravelly constricted his throat. Coughing meaningfully, he spat out soot and looked at it blankly. "Never doing that again," Don whispered out hoarsely, wobbling to his feet and rubbing his hands across his legs, brushing the dust off. He coughed before placing a hand on his head and a fresh pain waved through him, and when he withdrew his hand he noticed small rivets of blood had coated it. "Great, just great." He muttered, wiping his burned hands across his legs, hoping to smear the blood off, only resulting in a bigger mess. "Not my brightest of ideas but-"

"Don?" Don froze, his bandana tails flapping loosely in the wind, and he turned slowly towards the voice. Oh shell, it sounded like- "Where _are _we?" -Mikey. The orange masked terrapin fumbled out from the crater in the wall. It looked like someone had taken a battery ram to it, someone could sit in it, if they were their size. Mikey patted at his shell, just below his shoulder, and brought back a hand of blood. He let out a small 'eep!' and waved his hand frantically away from him, spraying blood on the rubble at their feet.

Wait... rubble?

Don looked around, for a moment forgetting that Mikey was there, his grey eyes scanning around them. The whole place was trashed and didn't even look like their living room anymore. He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes frantically darting around. "Oh shell," he muttered out, causing Mikey to look up in alarm. "We're _here._ Home. Th...thirty years in the future... oh shell, oh please, _no_." He fell to his knees, arms hanging limply at his sides as he looked around dully with a fogged mind. He grabbed tightly on the rubble nearest the clutches of his hands, running it through his fingers absent-mindedly. "This... is the alternate dimension I had been sent to. This.. is place where I watched you all die." His voice cracked, and he tried to laugh, but it came out like a strangled sob. His eyes grew hazy and then he began to cry, letting all his emotions pour out, wrapping his arms around himself and rocking himself, his cries sounding like a dying cat's, tears and blood mixing on his cheeks before dripping down his chin.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Mikey's voice broke through Don's haze, although he still continued to mutter and cry. Don vaguely realized that Mikey was coming towards him. "We could have.. we could have comforted you, bro. You wouldn't have to be alone."

With a hiccup, Don hoarsely replied back, "I didn't want to be a burden. I didn't.. I didn't want you to feel my pain too. It's my fault you died anyways.. my fault. It had been my plan and- Mikey! Your poor arm, you poor arm had been chopped off.." He hiccuped again before bursting into tears again. He blundered on, not wanting to stop the words, now that they had started to spill. "Shredder ruled this world; this future. Raph lost his eye, Leo his sight, you.. your arm. Master Splinter was dead and.. I - I had gone missing! With me gone, all of this... all of this happened! None of you spoke to each other anymore. You.. you didn't smile, Leo didn't lead, but Raph, heh, he still caused fights, I guess." He forced a weak chuckle. "Besides the point, though, right?" He coughed, blinking through his tears. "I thought of a plan, I did. A plan to end their -Shredders and Karai's- and.. I got you all killed! It's my fault!" His head fell onto his open palms as he cried into it.

Mikey rushed forward, wrapping his arms around his immediate older brother, a fresh wave of pain rolling through his shoulder as he did so, but he would comfort his brothers, yes, at all costs. "Don't worry, bro," he said, his voice cracking and he frowned in displeasure before speaking again, "It's not really your fault. At least their dead, though, right? Shredder and.. Karai. Not us, although we _are_ dead in this period, I guess. But it's not your fault. It was meant to happen, right? Couldn't save us any other way? Lemme guess, you teleported back just as soon as you finished killing them? Yeah, I see that look on your face. So you did, huh? Well, it happened for a reason. You went to that time period to _save _us. And you did, by ending his terror, dude. You saved us."

Don blinked up at Mikey, before smiling for the first time in weeks. "Y-Yeah.." Stretching his arms, he hugged Mikey, the scent of blood, sweat, and chocolate reaching his snout. Mikey returned the embrace, enjoying the heavy smell of coffee and oil off of Don, they continued to hug until a shadow fell over them.

They glanced up in alarm, reaching for their weapons before realizing they weren't there. Jumping apart they attempted to get into battle positions. The foot ninjas spread out in the ruins of the lair. "Oh, am I ruining this friendly little reunion? Good. We came to avenge our masters - Karai and Shredder. Prepare to die, turtles!"

* * *

"You really think that this'll work? We're even lucky that Leathehead had another copy. Did you _see _what happened to our living room?"

"Which is why we're doin' this in a tunnel. Now quite yer whining, Fearless."

"Let's just get this over with and rescue our brothers. I... I'm worried about what happened to them there."

"I'm sure ain't nothing happened to 'em."

"For their sake, I hope your right."

* * *

Throwing wild punches, Mikey called out to Don, "Hey, dude! You holding up all right?!" He could hear Don grunt an affirmative somewhere near his right, despite the constant drone of the machine gun. "Good!" Blood pooled from his shoulder, spraying everything as he whipped around. His leg had begun to send waves of pain up his body, thousands of needles prickling through. It was all his fault, anyways, they were here because he wanted to show Don the teleportatoin device. He sighed, after knocking out another ninja; it was his fault, but he had gotten over it. It wouldn't scar him like it had scarred Donnie when he had come to this world.

He thought again of his brother, and turned around to go help his brother fight off the horde of the Foot ninja, his mouth opening when a soft voice uttered: "Your dead turtle." A gun was pointed towards his chest and he fell back, stumbling to get away, when a loud ringing filled the air, powder falling through the air, the bullet firing.

Mikey closed his eyes; waiting for impact. He waited a moment, but still he felt nothing.

Opening his eyes, the terrapin glanced ahead of him, and stared at Don's shell. Had Don caught it? His subconscious screamed at him the answer, but denial sunk in, it had already sunk in the moment he opened his eyes. The ironic thing was, Don was still standing there, teetering, just swaying there, before leaning sideways, and Mikey simply stared. Everything seemed so.. unreal. It couldn't be happening. This was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.

Blood touched his foot and he glanced down before confirming that indeed; it _was _blood. Numbly, unseeing, he reached out for his fallen brother, sobs wracking through his chest, tears streaking down. "Oh sh-shell. Please, Don... no! Donnie, oh shell, why... why did you... why did-?" he cried out, his smooth palms reaching forward. Everything was fine before. Not even two hours again, everything was fine. Donnie had still been unaccepting, but fine; not fatally wounded. "Oh, shell, please, Donnie, don't do this to me. Who... who will I bug? Who... who will play video games with me?" He had sputtered the first thing that he thought of, and now out in the open, it sounded utterly stupid. "You can't be.. oh shell, please, NO. C'mon, don't do this to me, bro." Realization was sinking in. Don had _saved _him. Don had watched his own brothers -okay, alternate dimensional brothers, but still brothers- _die, _and Mikey was freaking when his brother was still alive, fatally wounded, but stil alive? Oh shell, what had Donnie been through? It was like Mikey had been shot himself, his thoughts blown to smitherians, a hole where everything connected to his brother had been. His brother was dieing and he could practically do nothing.

"I'm sorry."

Mikey blinked down in surprise, glistening tears slithering down his cheeks and falling onto Don's pale olive face, Don reached up with his bare hand and gently brushed the tears away. He smiled, shakily, blood spilling out at the corners of his mouth. Mikey hefted Don up some more, so that he could have been in a sitting position -if Don could've managed to support himself- but yet still Mikey clung to him, gasping out and crying. "No, Don, do-don't... apologize, dude. We're gonna pull through this! You aren't.. you aren't gonna die on me! Who... who will I share ice cream with?!" Mikey held Don closer, the foot ninja seeming to have decided that it was only Don they were after, and now that they had hit him, they simple didn't give a damn. "Donnie, please, ple-ase don't _do this _to me!"

"Mikey.. Don't cry for me. It's my fault you died. Anyways. I couldn't stand to see another one of my brothers die; not again, not by them." He took a shaky breath, before pressing his palm loosely against his side. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I understand now, Mikey. I was.. sent there for a reason. And I messed things up. I was.. supposed to know that I.. that it wouldn't be my fault. Dam.. damn Shredder. Betting that he... took me away... that's why it happened..." He chuckled, blood pooling on the plates of his plastron, large amounts dribbling down his mouth and chin, before weakly raising one of his hands to brush it aside like an annoying fly before grunting in pain. He no longer attempted to stop the bleeding. "It wouldn't be my fault, ever, Mikey. So don't think that this..." he gestured weakly to himself. "..was your fault either. It was meant to be, I guess. I proba-bly... would change it though, yeah. But... don't _ever _think it's your fault, Mikey. That'll... be my dieing wish, okay? Don't.. don't ever think that this is your fault. I want you to be happy, Mikey. And I'm sorry, I didn't really break your Xbox or anything. Tell them I'm sorry too and.. and.." He closed his eyes briefly, taking in a shaky breath before smiling, a sad and heartwrenching smile. "...it's not their fault either. Don't let them believe that. Mikey, don't _you _believe it. Don't let... don't let them rule the world though, Karai and Shredder... Tell Leo and Raph I'm sorry too.."

"No, Don, you can tell them that," Mikey suddenly said, his heart pounding too loudly in his own chest, the pain wrenching through him, for him to even interrupt Don during his rant. "You can tell them... everything. Just don't... don't give up, okay?"

"Mik... ey... always been... one of my favourite brothers.. don't... ever forget that... love you," Don mumbled, smiling before reaching up to hug Mikey. That was what pained Mikey. His brother was dying and still trying to comfort Mikey.

"I'm going to miss you," Mikey sobbed out.

"I... know..."

"You.. were always my favourite brother, dude."

Don smiled and gently released his grip on Mikey. Mikey arranged Don into a better position so that he could hold him in the crook of his arm. Mikey continued to sob as he listened to Don's labored breathing, the slowing drizzle of his blood, and his closing eyes. Mikey wanted to suddenly talk to Don, say how sorry he was, and everything he never got to do. Don suddenly but slowly opened his eyes, almost causing Mikey to drop him in surprise. _Live for me, _his grey eyes said. "I will," Mikey muttered, barely loud enough for Don to hear him. "I will, for you."

Only twelve minutes later did Leo and Raph teleported there, and found a very displeasing scene of Mikey clutching to Don's body and wailing an unearthly cry, sobbing and crying. In a week they would bury Don, and in months they would finally talk about it, and in less than a decade they would finally start to heal. They shared every moment they could, reminiscing about Don and other friends. But they would never forget him. Ever. But they moved on, and eventually smiled again, and laughed.

Donatello, despite being dead, wouldn't have had it any other way.

**-Fin**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own the turtles, because honestly if I did, they'd probably die a few times over but still be resurrected because of their awesomeness.

**A/n: **I was never intending to write this, but you know, with everybody displeased about the ending, I decided to change it - just for you guys. Thank you all for supporting this story and reading it, you all made it worthwhile, I couldn't have made it without your guys' support. Thank you all, for everything.

* * *

"Wha... in pizza's name just..."

The words startled the older turtle into glancing over at his younger brother, just jaw working but no words were coming out. His throat was undeniably tight, his tongue feeling swollen, an almost distressed look on his face. The orange masked terrapin glanced at his older brother, his light blue eyes as wide as exaggerated saucers, his mouth opening slightly, the slight splash of freckles across his cheekbones were majorly visible as he paled considerably.

"Don... Dude, you said... that was the future you were sent to - is that true, man?" Donnie didn't bother meting his eyes, instead preffering to glance around, his grey orbs holding disbelief. He rested a three-fingered palm against his chest where the wound had once been.

"I.. I'm alive," he breathed slowly, uncertainly, caressing his olive skin gently, disbelief dripping from his tone.

"Uh.." Mikey trailed off, getting a horribly confused expression on his face as he examined the mess they had made of the living room. "Leo's gonna be mad.." He whined, shaking his head and sticking out his bottom lip, feeling still jittery from their experience in that possible future.

It was an alternate dimension... does this mean we can't die in the other dimensions? Did none of it actually happen and that it was all a trick of their mind's? Don pondered, still disbelieving, still not quite getting over the fact that they were home and alive. A comforting hand rested atop his, causing him to become startled and glance over, his grey eyes wide as Mikey offered a small smile. "Dude, we're home. We're safe. We might have died in that other place, but that doesn't mean you should die too, because we are still alive, in this place; none of it was real."

The violet masked turtle frowned, trying to understand how such words had left Mikey's mouth. "None... Of it happened?" he asked slowly, his voice coming out rough, his cheeks feeling wet and his eyes suddenly moist. "I didn't... I didn't...?" He croaked out before closing his jaws, unable to form the words, his vision getting blurry.

"You didn't leave or die, dude... We're home and alive," the youngest turtle promised, withdrawing his hand to make a 'cross my heart' motion with his hands over his chest. Mikey let out a shrill squeak of alarm as the genius leaped forward wrapping his arms around his brother, his grip like iron and unwilling to let go. "Everything's going to be okay," Mikey managed out after his surprise, chuckling in Don's ear ad he wept.

And everything would be just that, forever after that.

"Fer the love of-" they heard the sound of the door opening and two echoes of turtle feet as their elder brothers walked in. Raph's voice rose again, "Mikey, what da shell did ya do to da livin' room?!"

Well, almost, anyways.

_~Fin~_


End file.
